From Absence to Art: Estefania Ajcip
A tribute to untold immigrant stories
“I want to explore the absence. Not just the absence, but the broken part of a family, the sacrifices that one of the parents have to do in order for the rest to survive in another place, ” shared Estefania Ajcip, a Los Angeles based mixed media artist. Her work shines a spotlight on the often-overlooked narrative of families torn apart , a narrative deeply rooted in her own history of living in Guatemala while her father worked in the U.S.
Her piece, “The Red Truck”, displayed at the Ahorita group show in the Charles James Gallery this summer, draws inspiration from a truck her father treasured but had to leave behind when he moved to Los Angeles from Guatemala. The artwork portrays a young girl in the truck's trunk, almost embracing the vehicle, with a forlorn look on her face. The iconic Los Angeles Rose Bowl Stadium looms in the backdrop, behind a border wall. The piece features the headlights and open trunk of the car jutting out, pulling the viewer in to further engage with her story.
Born in East LA, Ajcip relocated to Guatemala with her family when she was seven. Her father soon returned to LA to earn a living and send money back to the family. The separation was challenging. Estefania and her sister exchanged letters with their father for some time, but as the distance put a strain on her parents' relationship, the correspondence dwindled. At 18, Estefania returned to the U.S., initially living with her elder sister in Tennessee before moving to LA to reconnect with her estranged father. The reunion marked an opportunity to rebuild their relationship.
Their relationship deepened over time. A significant moment arose when Estefania discovered a box of letters she and her sister had written, stored alongside money order receipts from their father. “I realized my dad had always been there. Even though we were really far and were told that he was forgetting about us, in reality it wasn’t true,” shared Estefania. This discovery reshaped her understanding of his sacrifices and allowed her to forgive him.
Originally, Estefania intended to work in the US to support her family back in Guatemala. But with her father's encouragement, she prioritized education, igniting her artistic passion at Pasadena College. Her talent landed her a spot at CSU Long Beach’s esteemed art program. The experience proved to be a tough balancing act of building a foundation in art with exploring her own style and instincts. A professor's dismissive remark likening her explorative work to a mere craft project discouraged her. Estefania recalls, “I was just doing whatever they asked for and not exploring because in my mind I felt like what I was doing was not good enough”.
An unexpected turning point came during a project in her final year. “It was [an assignment] called Fracture where you are break down the [human] figure. I ended up getting some boxes and then cutting pieces and moving the pieces differently.” Estefania misunderstood the assignment, but this time, her professor saw potential where others had seen deviance from the norm. The confidence from her professor allowed her to refocus on mixed media art - creating layered, textured narratives from found materials, embroidery, cardboard, and more. This became the foundation for her practice.
For her final project at Long Beach, Estefania returned to the box of letters her father had saved for inspiration, “And that’s when it clicked. I want to talk about this idea of having that feeling of emptiness and the feeling of absence,” shared Estefania.
She wanted to honor her father’s story and the sacrifice, far cry from how she as a young girl had imagined his life. His reality of moving to a new country, where he know no one, living in tight quarters, and working long hours, was one she had been blissfully unaware of. Her work today is a homage to the parts of the immigrant experience that you don’t hear about or see on the news.
In her piece, “Cartas a Papi” (“Letters to Dad”), a teddy bear emerges from the canvas being held by a young girl in a Guatemalan cornfield. The girl leans on her father, busy at an industrial sewing machine. In “Ja-K’iche” (“Ja” means home in the Mayan language, K’iche, spoken in Ajcip’s town in Guatamela), show the same pair, this time with an embroidered letter from her father, symbolizing his ever-present thoughts of his distant daughters.
Freshly graduated, Ajcip has already been featured in two exhibitions, with a third in the works. Her art radiates her humility, resilience, and love for her father. She shares, “I know I’m not unique, but my way of standing out is putting details and feeling into my painting. A lot of people don’t know me and that’s not what I’m worried about. I just want people to feel what I feel.”
Estefania Ajcip's art delves deep into the intricacies of family, separation, and sacrifice, spotlighting the silent stories of numerous families connected by love and memory. In a time when immigration often becomes a mere headline, Estefania humanizes it, showing the emotions and stories behind the statistics. Her journey underscores a universal message: the importance of looking past borders to recognize our shared human experience. A message that in light of the past few weeks is more poignant than ever.
You can view Ajcip’s work at Raiz II Group Show at the Marks Art Center at the College of the Desert and follow her Instagram here